Two strangers, one meeting
by BeforeTheStorm15
Summary: Based on the writing prompt, 'sitting on the same park bench AU' aka Emma Swan is in dire need of a friend when Killian Jones offers to lend an ear.
**Summary:** _ **'** sitting on the same park bench au' _aka Emma Swan is in dire need of a friend when Killian Jones offers to lend an ear.

* * *

A day in hell seemed like a better option that the upcoming 24 hours of Emma Swan's life.

She considered the least rewarding moments of her bails bondsperson career - assholes dumping drinks on expensive clothing, unimaginative lies, long stakeout nights with a grumbling stomach - and opted to trade them all in for someone to volunteer to be in her place today.

Today was the day that Emma would have to make a choice: whether or not to meet her son. The very same son she had sorrowfully given up in exchange for his clean slate. A future away from her walls and far from motherly lifestyle.

 _Henry Mills. 10 years old._

Staring down at the papers, the written name seemed to burn into her vision. How could simple forms weigh like a ton?

 _I should have just asked for a closed adoption,_ Emma thought. She sighed, unable to keep from chewing her lower lip as her mind whirled.

 _Now I'm going to run the kid's hopes._

 _Whatever he's expecting….I won't be it. He'll take one look and run back to his real mom._

Emma had received a call a few weeks back asking if she would be open to the idea of meeting with her biological son and his adopted mother, a Mrs. Regina Mills, who lived in a small town in Maine. She'd considered only a handful of times that someone might contact her in regards to the painful decision she'd made many years ago. A decision made through heartbreak, but also hope for the infant's life. Emma wanted her son to have everything in the world, and she had concluded that he would only have that away from her.

 _Strangely enough, giving birth in jail tends to make people question their self-belief._

But a small part of her must have had hope for herself too, as she'd chosen an open adoption; giving the power to her child's adopted family and later, the child too, to decide whether or not Emma would be invited into his life.

Henry's life, she quickly in putted the name. It felt strange. Her son had a name. No, _the child_ had a name. Henry was Emma's son in the same way that Neal was his father.

A protest arose in Emma's mind that she was nothing like his biological father, who abandoned her in exchange for his freedom from a petty crime she'd been desperately trying to fix for him. Then they had planned to head off into the sunset and start a new life together.

 _And look how well that turned out._

Emma sucked in a slow breath and released it shakily. The cool spring air settled around the park like a blanket, the first few rays of midday sun warming the slim bench which Emma had sat down upon to consider her options.

She had until Tuesday morning to respond to the meeting request. She was to call the adoption centre, who would then contact Mrs. Mills and Henry and arrange a suitable date and time.

Did she really want to watch her child's disappointment come to life? To bring every fear and sweat-inducing nightmare into a plane of reality? The years of confidence and stability she'd built for herself would be tested in every way. Emma knew this. The question was whether it would benefit Henry at all or become a mess of 'ifs' and 'whys' that she couldn't possibly give any desirable answer to.

 _But Mrs. Mills has agreed to this. Surely….if she believes that her son is ready, then he is._

 _Or could I be saving him from a worse fate than abandonment?_

Tales of evil parents and orphaned children spun webs of anxiety inside Emma's haunted mind. She considered her own parents, charming and loving and everything a young woman could want during her scared youth. Emma's parents had saved her life, caring for her after prison and encouraging her to build a life for herself and rebuild her motivation. She was forever grateful for their unconditional love.

 _What if Henry already has that? And I'm just going to end up as a horror story at their dinner table?_

But he wanted to meet her. So did his adopted family, and that was enough to peak Emma's interest.

 _A guardian angel would be pretty handy right now,_ she thought, adjusting herself slightly on the bench and raising a hand to block out the sun and turned back to the papers she'd been sent.

Suddenly, loud thuds echoed closer and closer before two large paws appeared on Emma's knees. She gave a startled cry as a wet nose was thrust against hers and she was met with two large brown eyes and a lolling tongue.

" _HOOK! COME BACK HERE YOU BLOODY, GREAT BEAST!"_

The dog – a perky spaniel - whined at the man's voice, but climbed down from Emma's lap and sat before her with a happy wagging tail.

She waited a moment for her heartbeat to return to normal as she felt a smile begin to grow. The dog's excitement was infectious, and she waited for the voice to catch up.

 _Probably just a very annoyed businessman grumbling about how he had been forced to walk his daughter's dumb pet-_

"This is exactly why you were named after a pirate, mate. Though I'm quite certain there's a joke about beautiful women and finding treasure in here somewhere…"

"Ha. Funny." Emma scoffed, still distractedly petting the happy dog. She could only see the man's footwear from her hunched position, but she had to admit that the elegant leather boots didn't seem to fit her angry, middle-aged businessman stereotype. Neither did the accent, which was musically lilted and Irish, if her geographical skills hadn't abandoned her along with her dignity of being lovingly attacked by a big, bouncing dog.

"Forgive the cheeky rascal, love. He thought you were asking for a high-five. Or paw-five, as we all call it back at home."

"It's fine, honest. You can go if you're on a tight schedu-"

Oh.

Definitely not a middle-aged businessman.

More accurately, an early-thirties man with a tall frame, charming smile and eyes that seemed like an ocean of adventure and storybooks waiting to be lived. They shone with something Emma seemed taken aback with; openness. A vulnerability that she admired, having understood how hard it was to create and re-build also. He looked at his dog with a fondness that Emma also warmed towards. Anyone who cared for their pet as a friend and not a burden was an instant winner in her books. His dress sense was casual yet smart, dark jeans, a dark blue blouse and black waistcoat with a black duster draped over his arm.

He cast those blue eyes at her and Emma felt brave enough to meet his gaze head-on, one hand still tickling the animal's neck and floppy ears.

 _Dear lord, that jaw could cut diamonds._

"You taught your dog how to high five?" She said quickly, refusing to be thrown by a beautiful stranger with a lovely smile. _And dimples, tousled hair, long limbs…_

"You didn't teach yours?"

"I don't have a dog."

"Oh." He frowned for a moment and then flashed her a grin. "You should."

Emma returned the smile and was about to admit that he was probably right when the stranger gestured to the bench. "Mind if I take a seat? Seeing as you've stolen Captain Hook's heart."

She nodded but raised an eyebrow. "Disney fanatic?"

"Aye." He mimicked the gesture comically and Emma let out a laugh. A sudden relief followed as the stranger sat down and relaxed against the bench, watching her cuddle the dog for a few more moments. She had felt rather alone before he arrived, painfully reminded of her loneliness after being released from prison and expecting to move on like nothing had happened. The man's arrival felt…right. Good.

"I'm Killian, by the way. If you're planning to steal my dog, I should warn you that he is secretly a killer and will not hesitate to bite beautiful blonde ladies."

Emma snorted. "He sure looks it." Hook was burying his nose into her hand, beginning to climb onto the bench again to snuggle against her. "I'm Emma. Emma Swan, future dog-napper and owner of every single limited addition Disney classics."

"Are you messing with me, Swan?" Killian's eyes widened, his mouth forming a slight 'o' as he stared at her in shock. He looked like a man discovering how to breathe and Emma turned away slightly to hide her grin.

"One can never be too old for fairy tales."

Emma had intended on carrying on the teasing, but her words had come out softer than she'd intended. She sounded younger, and hoped her new acquaintance wouldn't notice. Her thoughts suddenly snapped back to the discarded papers she'd been consumed by a few minutes ago, and she ignored the excited animal to return to them.

Killian was looking straight at Emma, his forehead lined with worry.

 _Ah, so he noticed._

"I think I'm meeting my son soon."

She froze.

Killian didn't move an inch.

The silence in the park seemed to multiply in Emma's head as she realised what she'd just burst out with to an almost total stranger sharing a park bench with her.

"How old is he?"

She blinked back surprised and looked across at Killian, who was leaning slightly towards her with a careful expression on his face. He kept a comfortable distance between them, but his body language was open; head tilted and shoulders relaxed.

"Ten. He's ten. And I've missed every moment of those ten years." She watched as Killian's dog wagged some more before getting the hint and walking around the bench to lay down beside the grass. "Shit. I'm sorry. I don't know why I just dropped my personal life onto you. Feel free to haul ass and run."

 _Like Neal._

Emma buried that thought in a second.

"Anyway, you have better things to do than playing Agony Aunt. I should probably head off anyway."

"Stay. Please."

She met his gaze again, searching for a sign of a joke, but all she found in his blue eyes was curiosity and empathy.

"It takes a great deal of courage to speak as you have done."

"Randomly?"

"Honestly."

Emma breathed out slowly, feeling a tad off balance as something unfolded in the moment. It was like meeting a friend and knowing in an instant that they could become such a prominent part of your life. It was the feeling of being comfortable and not wanting to let it go.

"Look, it seems like you're in need of a friend. And I happen to be an excellent listener. Ask my furry companion here. I know a great noodle bar a few minutes away. What do you say, Emma Swan? Fancy it?"

She looked across again. "You're serious?"

"One never jokes about noodles."

The corners of her lips began to tug into a smile. "Or dogs."

"Or dogs." Killian agreed solemnly.

"Sure. I could go for noodles."

"But first I must dispose of my fluffy friend. Swan, if I leave will you promise to stay put?"

"I can't promise that."

"Bugger." Killian's smile faded. His expression grew so wistful that Emma couldn't help but cease her teasing and let out a warm laugh.

"You were teasing, gods, smart and beautiful. Killer combo."

Her cheeks grew heated. "Ha. So I, uh, I'll see you back here in a bit?"

"I hope so."

"Bye, Hook!" Emma called, laughing as the sitting dog perked up at his name and ran over to her one last time. She stroked him for a few moments until Killian placed the lead on.

"See you soon." She said quietly. Watching the pair walk off, she wasn't quite certain who she had spoken to. Seeing Hook again meant seeing Killian after their meal.

 _What just happened?_

As it turned out, Killian Jones had excellent taste in food as well as canine companions.

"These….are…..amazing…."

"Heavenly. Divine. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?"

"Exactly." Emma mumbled in-between forkfuls of her food. She was considering ordering another bowl but Killian cleared his throat and wiped his mouth on a napkin.

"So, love, tell me about the boy. If you like. Did you put him up for adoption?"

She almost choked on a strand of noodle. He'd asked so casually. So normally, as though offering a hand shake or asking for the bill. He looked across the small wooden table at her with earnest, open eyes and it was refreshing not to feel judged or condemned for a choice she'd made many years ago.

"Uh…yeah. Ten years ago. Open adoption so I guess I should've been more prepared for a letter to arrive at some point."

"And you're uncertain whether to agree to the meeting?"

"Yeah."

"And…the father?"

"Gone."

"I'm sorry, Swan."

"No, I mean….he's not dead or anything. Just…not here. That's a story for another time though."

"Hm, another time?"

She looked up and found Killian grinning as he ate. "Interesting." He murmured, half to himself.

It would've been so easy to retort. Or to roll her eyes. Instead, Emma liked the comfortable repertoire. The balance between sharing and getting to know someone, and keeping them at bay. It was a careful slope, one that she'd struggled with constantly with friends, family and romantic prospects.

"What if this kid is better off not knowing?"

Killian stopped eating. He considered her words, running his tongue over his lower lip as his brow furrowed. The background noise of other customers filled Emma's heart with dread. Maybe she'd overstepped the boundaries already. He was hardly a friend yet and Killian might be gone from her life.

"And what if getting to know you helps the both of you?"

She blinked, surprised by his sincerity. He spoke softly, his eyes crinkled and kind at the edges as he began to eat again, slowly, while talking in-between mouthfuls. "Sure, he could be happy with his family. That's wonderful. He could want to rant and scream at you and then go back home feeling satisfied. Or, he could simply want to know you, Emma. Find out who you are and why you made the tough decision to give him away."

"How can I know the answers?"

"You do. I think you just have to be brave enough to listen to your heart. It seems to me that it's filled with hope."

She sighed. "How can you know that?"

"Let me tell you a story. This morning, I met a beautiful lass in the park. After my dog stole her heart, I found her to be rather conflicted. She was distracted, holding adoption papers and sitting with the weight of the world on her shoulders. Do you know what I thought when I first met you, Swan?" His eyes sought hers and held her gaze determinedly. "I thought you were a warrior. Fighting a war with yourself. Trust me, I'd know. Let go of the past, Emma, trust me, it will serve you well. The future's there for your taking."

 _Whoa._

"I….well, thank you, Killian, for…."

 _For what?_

Emma wasn't quite sure what to say. There was very little which completely took her by surprise. Killian seemed to be making it a recurring activity. Around him, vulnerability was a strength.

"Thank you." She said simply.

"Anytime." He winked but held her gaze for a few moments, challenging the parts of her which felt compelled to run.

"So…now that you practically know my life story, tell me about you."

"What do you want to know, love?" His tone was light, but deliberately so, and Emma recognised when someone was hiding beneath their armour. Killian's shoulders held a tension which hadn't been there a few moments before.

"Who did you lose, Killian?"

 _Oh, if silence could kill._

She considered backtracking, but there was nowhere to hide in the after mass of such a question. It was up to him, to end it all or take it further. She'd played her part. Would Killian be brave enough to let her in the same way that she had just been doing?

"My brother. Liam."

She waited.

"He perished in a boating accident just over six years ago. My family owns a lot of fishing companies and the bloody idiot thought going out in a storm was a reasonable plan. The body was never recovered."

"Were you close?"

"Very. Our father didn't really try out for the 'dad of the year' award if you catch my drift, so Liam pretty much raised me. I don't know what I would've been without my brother."

She reached out without thinking and clasped Killian's hand in her own. "I think he'd be proud of you, Killian. You're a good man."

His fingers brushed her knuckles for a few moments and then he smiled and looked up, eyes slightly glazed over but content. "Bit too early to say that, Swan, but I appreciate it."

"Well then, you know there's only one solution to this."

Killian's eyebrow rose. "Indeed?"

"I have to see you again."

"My my, how forward, Swan."

She grinned. "Says the man who invited a stranger out for lunch."

He looked taken aback for a moment and then replied, softly, "Are we really still strangers, Emma?"

It was a good point. She considered it, weighing up the day in her hands. Their meeting seemed so long ago yet they'd spent only a handful of hours together. There was an undeniable connection. Whether it was friendship, less, or more, was to be decided, but as Emma looked up at Killian Jones, in that moment she was certain there was more waiting to be unfolded. A few more chapters in their strange story. At _least_ a few more chapters.

"No. Perhaps not." She finally replied.

"So I believe you have some decisions to make, Emma Swan. I shall let you get back to brooding over those, but I will make one thing easier for you." Killian reached into his phone and tapped it a few times, before handing it over to her. "If you need another noodle outing. Or would like to get attacked by a big, friendly spaniel again."

"I do love dogs." She admitted with a grin. "And noodles." She finished typing in her number and handed the phone back to Killian, ignoring the slight shaking of her fingers.

"I'll see you soon, Swan. I hope."

As it turned out, Emma's day in hell had held many pleasant surprises after all, dogs, noodles and all.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this little fic, I'm considering writing more in this 'world' but we'll see what happens :)


End file.
